Scars
by Super Secret Siha
Summary: ME3 was missing some pieces. SPOILERS for all three games. Rated M for language, violence and sexual situations in future chapters. Bioware owns everything. UPDATED Chapter 2.
1. Life Support

Scars

Chapter 1: Life Support

Commander Jane Shepard breathed in the dry air of Life Support. Biting back what she would never admit was a sob, she thought with regret about Tuchanka. Thane would have loved the ruins they had discovered there, would have reveled in the arid atmosphere. Back during the Collector mission, the ground team had spent nearly a week on the desert planet, sorting out the Maelon situation and getting Grunt initiated into Clan Urdnot. Shepard hadn't thought to bring Thane along planetside. She would never get that chance now. Just another in an ever-growing heap of decisions she couldn't take back.

Tentatively, Shepard placed the holo on the table before her. She pulled out the chair facing the door, and it scuffled against the metal floor. She sat, reached across the table, and flicked the holo's power switch to on. From the black disc emerged a three-dimensional image of her recently departed friend, Thane Krios. His full lips were slightly upturned, and his onyx eyes glimmered with faint amusement. Something about him didn't look right. Shepard narrowed her eyes; the holo had a decent resolution, but it could not do justice to Thane's colorations. The hue of his shimmery skin would change with the light, a variable palette of lush greens, sensual reds, and sultry blacks. This approximation was as good as it was going to get. This was all that remained of him outside of her imperfect memory.

Shepard tried to remember everything she could. While on the Citadel, Thane had discovered he had a taste for ramen noodles and orange pekoe tea. His favorite sniper rifle was the M-97 Viper, due to its rapid rate of fire and relative light weight, but if he was given the choice he preferred to kill up close. He wanted to feel the life he was taking, so that it was something of substance. Something personal. What else? _What else?_

On the instances that Thane chose to play Skyllian Five, he had proved a formidable foe. He had met Izyryndos, the hanar who played Blasto, several times. Every once in a while, Thane would feel a twinge of pain in his left knee. This was from his early days as an assassin; he had tripped over some loose wiring during an escape, and had fallen directly on his kneecap. He now considered it a reminder always to be aware of his surroundings. Or, he had considered it so, up until…_What else…?_

The holo blinked. "Siha," it seemed to say, "You are being ridiculous. Forget about me and go save the galaxy."

Shepard squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists, and shook her head almost violently. She couldn't forget, and what was more, she wouldn't. The galaxy was colder, emptier for the loss of him. Billions had died in this war already, but the heft of them all was as a single leaf compared to the weight of his absence. No, forgetting was not an option. Now. _What else?_

He was so damn cool. He kept weapons in places you wouldn't believe, and when he prayed to his gods, he meant it. Thane was convinced that one of these goddesses, Arashu, had touched Shepard. His nickname for her, siha, was not merely an affectionate moniker. He sincerely believed she was a warrior-angel, and that Arashu had blessed him beyond his worth to have sent two such beings into his life. The first, Irikah, had become his wife.

Shepard couldn't—no, that wasn't right; the man was dead, for fuck's sake, so let's dispense with the bullshit, shall we?—she hadn't wanted to feel too deeply for him. Kaidan had shown her how hero worship could twist into contempt and mistrust. So she had made some lame excuse about not being able to replace Thane's deceased wife, and backed away from the situation. Since we were done bullshitting, Shepard could acknowledge that this was one of the few decisions with regard to the late Mr. Krios that she did not regret. Certainly, he'd made her think highly inappropriate thoughts at highly inappropriate moments, and had done so damn near until the end, but Shepard needed a lover who regarded her not as a legend or a supernatural being, not as Commander "Fucking" Shepard, but as a deeply flawed equal. As Jane. She had found this in Garrus Vakarian. He was the best decision she had ever made.

And now, with all that out of the way, Shepard could say to her friend what she had ventured into to his old haunt to say. "Thane," she whispered, her voice raspy with grief, "the Reapers took Kahje…"

Gunnery Officer Garrus Vakarian silently contemplated the memorial wall. It was filling up too quickly; Mordin Solus had perished a few days ago while curing the krogan genophage, and today, Thane Krios died saving Councilor Valern's life. Garrus remembered the last conversation he'd had with Mordin, just before they'd hit Tuchanka. The salarian had summoned him to the med bay to discuss "medical matters."

"_Krogan women attracted to men with scars," Mordin pointed out to the female they were calling Eve. "Garrus loyal, intelligent, occasionally witty. Shepard can attest."_

_Shepard was digging some shrapnel out of her leg with a large pair of tweezers, since Mordin was fussing with Eve and Chakwas had mysteriously disappeared from the med bay after they'd shoved off from Sur'Kesh. "All true," Shepard grimaced, yanking a tiny piece of metal from the wound in her thigh. "Plus, he's a tiger in the sack."_

"_Spirits, Shepard, let me get that," Garrus said, trying to ignore the teasing. He rushed to her side and plucked the tweezers from Shepard's fingers. The surprising part was that she let him._

"_Forgot attentive," Mordin added, his thin lips almost forming a smile._

"_What is a 'tiger'?" Eve asked._

"_Earth species," Mordin replied. "Rare. Known for beauty and ferocity."_

"_Yup, that's me," Garrus drawled. He dug the tweezers deep into Shepard's thigh, and grabbed on to a big, sharp piece of metal. Pulling firmly, he removed the shard with a loud, sickening pop. "Beautiful and ferocious."_

_Shepard hissed in pain, and Garrus quickly dropped the shrapnel into a pan and applied medigel to her open wound. She exhaled, holding his eyes with hers._

"_Better?" he asked._

"_Better," she replied. "Thanks."_

_Garrus nodded, and pressed a dressing to the wound. "Now, if you two are finished arranging our marriage…"_

"_No offense," said Eve, "but I am definitely not interested."_

"_None taken," Garrus said, his bright blue stare meeting Shepard's green gaze. Shepard smirked, but said nothing. Her hand found his easily, as he'd neglected to remove it from her thigh. They were, for a brief, blessed moment, the only two beings in the galaxy._

_Mordin cleared his throat. "Garrus. Need to speak privately. Meet you in AI core?"_

"_Right behind you," Garrus nodded. Shepard gave his hand a squeeze and then relinquished it. There was never enough time. Garrus followed the salarian into the AI core._

_Mordin's dexterous fingers flew over a datapad as the door locked shut behind them. "You and Shepard still involved, yes?"_

_Garrus sighed. "Mordin, I'm not interested in Eve, if that's what you're getting at. Wrex would have my skull for a dessert bowl, in any event…"_

_Mordin waved his hand in dismissal. "Not the issue. Shepard under extreme pressure. Only one who can stop Reapers, save galaxy. Unthinkable burden, bearing entire war on… slender shoulders."_

"_Yeah," Garrus agreed. "I've tried to get her to slow down, but it's been one thing after another."_

"_Try harder,"Mordin said sternly. "Shepard not sleeping. Eating sporadically. Refused sleep aids, nutritional supplements. Psychotic break imminent if problem not addressed."_

"_Psychotic…? It's that bad?"_

"_That bad," Mordin nodded. "Possibly worse. Galaxy needs her in top condition. Trust you will take necessary steps."_

But then came Tuchanka, and three straight days of fighting through Reapers, and Cerberus, and more Reapers. And it was only after Mordin had—how had Vega phrased it?—gone out "like a boss," and cured the genophage that Garrus could convince Shepard to get some sleep. She had not been happy about it, but she'd grudgingly allowed the turians onboard to take care of turian business.

Now, Garrus wasn't sure the rest had done a bit of good. The last time he saw Shepard, after Cerberus's attempted coup at the Citadel, he had noticed orange fissures emerging from the skin on her face. Her scars were coming back. She wasn't keeping up that positive attitude, and who could blame her? This war was taking its toll on all of them. But Mordin had been right. The galaxy needed Commander Shepard, never mind that Garrus needed Jane.

From Life Support, Garrus heard a scuffling sound. Shepard. The turian had been too lost in thought to notice before, but now he heard her clearly. He waffled between returning to the main battery and going to console her. Likely the latter would be unwelcome, as much as he wanted to hold her lithe body against his, to whisper platitudes and comforts. Garrus knew that Shepard and Thane had been close, perhaps too close. Normally, he would be jealous, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't deny Thane's charisma. The way the drell moved—smooth, effortless, like water—was something to behold. And he was a crack shot. Not as crack as Garrus, of course, but nobody was perfect. Hell, even he might have jumped the fence for the guy if Shepard had asked. He would leave her to her mourning. But then, she began to speak, and Garrus could not walk away.

"Thane," she whispered, "the Reapers took Kahje…" And so she told her dead friend about the indoctrinated hanar diplomat, Regards the Works of the Enkindlers in Despair, and how she had made a split-second decision to save her partner Jondam rather than stop a virus from uploading into Kahje's defense system. She believed that she had made the wrong call, and blamed herself not only for the loss of the hanar home world—Thane's home world—but also for Thane's death. "If I'd acted more quickly, maybe we could have saved you," she rasped. "I failed you, Thane. I failed your people, and I'm sorry."

Garrus had heard enough. Mordin was right again; it was too much for one person, even the great Commander Shepard, to bear the weight of the galaxy on her back. Did she blame herself for Palaven, too? For Earth? For not doing enough to convince the Council of the Reaper threat while there was still time to prepare? Today, she'd had to kill Udina to defend Councilor Tevos, and she almost had needed to put a bullet in Kaidan to get the job done. Garrus resolved that somehow, some way, he would let Shepard know that his shoulders were strong, too, and that they were pledged to her. She would never be alone in this, not as long as Garrus drew breath. Just then, Shepard stepped out of Life Support.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blinking rapidly. She put on her mask, that unfazed expression she used to convince everyone that the great Commander Shepard was unflappable. "Hey, Garrus."

"Shepard. Hell of a day," Garrus said. "Udina loses his mind, the Citadel almost falls, and you almost had to put down a friend."

"Got a little tense there," Shepard replied.

Garrus lowered his voice. "I'm sorry about Thane," he said. "I know you were…" _Intimate? Riding that snake?_ "…fond of him."

Shepard nodded. "Thanks. He was a good friend."

"Clearly, he cared about you, too," said Garrus. "He had your back, and I appreciated that. And as loathe as I am to admit it, the man had style. Remember the day we met him? The way he took out Nassana and her thugs? Surgical precision. Blink and you'd miss him. It was…"

"Breathtaking," Shepard finished.

Garrus smiled, and crossed his arms over his chest. "You were swooning so hard I thought you might hit your head."

"You know, you're the only person to even mention Thane," Shepard said, her mask slipping slightly in the presence of her most trusted friend. "It's as if he never existed. What, we're supposed to just forget that he died in a god damned hospital bed because I almost shot Kaidan?"

"Like today was the first time **that's** ever happened," Garrus remarked, thinking of Horizon.

"I know, right?" Shepard shook her head, exasperated. "It's ridiculous, Garrus. Thane didn't want to die that way. He didn't deserve to."

The turian reached out and grazed Shepard's shoulder with his talon. "Kai Leng will pay for this, Shepard. The Illusive Man, too. Before the light goes out in their eyes, we'll make sure to give them a moment to rue the day they messed with us."

A sad smile crept across Shepard's face, and she leaned into Garrus's strong form. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her scalp the way she liked. "You're the only one who understands," she breathed.

"About Kaidan…" Garrus began after a few minutes. He didn't know why he insisted on filling the silence. She was right there in his arms, this incredible woman, and yet Garrus felt insecure about his place in her life. Shepard had insisted at their reunion that her feelings for him hadn't changed after six months' absence from each other, and she never had lied to him, even when it would have been expedient to do so. Still, so much had happened since then, and sometimes she was so hard to read.

"Oh, lord. Here it comes," Shepard mumbled as she tried in vain to bury herself deeper into Garrus's chest.

"If it had come down to it, could you have pulled the trigger?" he asked.

Shepard sighed heavily and looked up into the turian's earnest face. "Why is every question about what I would do in horrible situations? Just once, I'd like someone to ask me what I thought of the new _Blasto_, or what my favorite color is."

"But I know your favorite color, Shepard," Garrus said with a smirk.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?"

"Mmhmm. It's blue, like my eyes."

Shepard reached up and gently touched the fading scars on Garrus's face. "That it is," she said quietly. "That it is."


	2. About Horizon and Self Restraint

**Note: Wanted to reach out to you who have favorited or followed this story. Your support has been a most pleasant surprise, and it means so much more to me than I can express in a few words. So, to thank you, I'll endeavor to make subsequent chapters the very best that they can be. This chapter sort of got away from me. I hope you like it regardless.**

**This is Bioware's galaxy; I'm just trying to save it.**

Chapter 2: About Horizon… and Self-Restraint

I: Purgatory

Purgatory was a real shithole. Crap music, watered-down drinks, dodgy clientele. That wasn't the bad part. Shepard had a soft spot for dives, after all. Problem was, Purgatory put on pretty fancy airs for a joint with no professional dance staff. Liked to pretend it wasn't what it so plainly was. The place made Shepard miss Terminus, where a few creds would get you a dancer's undivided attention for the evening, and the shitholes were proud to be shitholes.

Aria T'Loak obviously agreed. "Have I told you how much I despise this place, Shepard?" the deposed Pirate Queen of Omega spat.

"You have," Shepard replied, rubbing her forehead. She'd awakened on Aria's couch some time ago, and at the moment was disinclined to leave it. "Give the word and we'll put you back on Omega."

Aria smirked. "You really think the Alliance would sanction your participation?"

"I don't give a varren's cock what the Alliance would sanction," Shepard said. She tried to focus on Aria's big blue face, found it too big and too blue, and settled on her remarkably delicate hands. The asari's fingers were threaded together in her lap, index fingers tapping out some ancient rhythm, out of time with the music in the club. "You, T'Loak, are Spectre business."

Aria laughed, not entirely without mirth. "Fair enough, Blasto. I'll let you know."

Shepard could feel Aria's eyes on her, sizing her up. She almost asked the asari if she saw anything she liked, but stopped herself just in time. Had to curb the flirtations. People kept getting the wrong idea. Or, even worse, they got the right idea.

Speaking of getting the wrong idea, Shepard had come in here to evade Kaidan, who really wanted to talk. There was a possibility that what Major Alenko wanted to talk about was Spectre-related. Maybe he wanted some advice on dodging paperwork, or on telling the Council to go fuck themselves while retaining one's Spectre status. Or maybe he wanted to run some test scenarios past her, to figure out what calls he might make when the decisions were his alone. Maybe he just needed his commander and friend to mentor him through this important step forward in his life.

Right. And maybe Shepard was a three-tittied nathak. The point was, as much as she would have loved to sit there and not flirt with the once and future Pirate Queen of Omega until shore leave was over, she supposed she was obligated to sit somewhere else and not flirt with her ex-boyfriend, the future Second Human Spectre, until he mercifully accepted that their romantic relationship was over. Besides, if she didn't do it soon, Kaidan would just corner her in the elevator or someplace equally as inconvenient. The way events tended to spiral out of her control these days, Shepard found she would like to avoid the elevator scene if at all possible.

"I should go," Shepard groaned, reluctantly moving to her feet. "Glad you survived, Aria."

"Likewise," Aria nodded. She leaned forward and seemed to devour the Commander with her eyes. "And Shepard…"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to drink so fast. Next time, I might be forced to take advantage of you."

Shepard took a deep, cleansing breath; in through the nose, out through the mouth. "We'll talk later," she said as she walked away. _A small victory…_

II: Presidium Commons

Rumor had it that Apollo's Café was serving actual steak, made from actual cow, so that was where Shepard was to meet Kaidan. The Keepers had done an exceptional job of patching the Citadel back together after the coup. Sovereign had given them plenty of practice, it appeared. Some of the lower wards were still smoldering, but the Commons were bright and shiny like nothing had happened.

Shepard shook her head. Only a few days ago, Cerberus operatives were executing civilians where she now stood. It was surreal, like a vivid and extremely awkward dream.

"I'm glad we're taking the time to do this," said Kaidan. "I could use a sanity check."

"Things have been pretty crazy," Shepard agreed, perusing the menu.

They talked for a while, or rather, Kaidan talked and Shepard listened. He reminisced about good times on Earth. Got that thousand-yard stare in his amber eyes, the look that Shepard had found so enticing back in the old days. The look was more haunted than Shepard remembered. He had seen atrocious things, and he knew there was worse to come. Yet, despite all of that, Kaidan was still optimistic about their chances. After everything they had been through, he mostly was the man she had loved; the soldier with a dark past who somehow still looked forward to a bright future.

Horizon didn't have to loom so large between them, did it? Ever since their talks in the hospital, they had been working on rebuilding the trust they'd shared before Shepard's solo space adventure above Alchera. Their confrontation over Udina had seemed to fortify that foundation. Shepard had trusted Kaidan enough to order Garrus and Liara to lower their weapons, and Kaidan had put himself way out there when, without any evidence aside from Shepard's word, he'd lowered his own weapon and tried to arrest Udina. The whole mess had rattled them, sure, but they had trusted each other in a difficult situation. That was a good start.

Comrades. They could move onward together as comrades. She would love him as a brother, and he would have her six no matter what. With their squad mates, they would kick the Reapers into a supermassive black hole (which wasn't such a terrible plan if the whole Crucible thing didn't work out. She would have to talk to EDI about that one, and Tali if they could find her; see what those two could come up with), and then they'd all retire somewhere warm and beachy. Kaidan would meet a nice, adventurous lady or gentleman who enjoyed rock climbing and white water kayaking, and Shepard and Garrus would have them over on the weekends for beverages and hors d'oeuvres, and… wait. _WHAT did he just say?_

"I understand why you cheated," was what he just said, "but I still love you, Shepard."

_Oh,_ _that smug, self-entitled, oblivious son of a cumdumpster. _One biotic punch to that gorgeous square jaw of his and the future Second Human Spectre would be across the Commons and against the wall. He was unarmed and wearing his civvies, and the open expression on his face revealed that he was not expecting Shepard to react violently to his ridiculous backhanded declaration of so-called love. Also, she had knives hidden all over her body, a little trick she had taken to in honor of Thane. Kaidan would never see it coming. How could he, with his head so far up his own ass? _Deep breaths, Shepard._ Not murdering her idiot ex-boyfriend in front of the entire Citadel was almost like not flirting with pretty much everyone: difficult but manageable. Self-restraint was the key.

The waiter, an observant salarian, noticed the homicide in Shepard's eyes. He delivered their drinks and slinked away without saying a word. Shepard downed her wine in two long guzzles. Kaidan had asked her a question. He'd asked her what she wanted. What she wanted was another drink. And to hurt this man. Mostly the drink. But the waiter had run off like a frightened pyjak, and Kaidan was looking at her with those big, dark, intense eyes expecting an answer. She'd give him an answer, all right.

"I want you…" Shepard paused here, waiting for it. Yes, there it was, all over Kaidan's face. Hope. "…to reconsider the idea that I cheated on you."

And the hope was gone, replaced by confusion. Damn it, she had wanted it dead, crushed like she'd felt after Horizon. She should have chosen her words more carefully.

"Shepard, I…" Kaidan began.

Shepard's hands curled into fists. "Just stop it. You don't get to absolve me of one betrayal while accusing me of another. I all but fell to my knees and begged you not to leave me on Horizon, and you called me a traitor and walked away. That wasn't a fight, it was a break up. How can you sit there and pretend it wasn't?"

"I'm not pretending," Kaidan replied, furrowing his brow. "I just… I guess I didn't see it that way. Did you read the letter I sent you?"

Shepard snorted. "You mean the one where you said you might take me back someday if I proved to your satisfaction that I wasn't some Cerberus puppet? Yeah, I read it."

"I never said that!" Kaidan growled. "I said I was confused. I said I didn't know who we were anymore. Hell, I said I was _sorry_. When is that gonna be enough for you?"

"Maybe never. The thing is, you were right," Shepard said. She looked at her hands, palms down on the table. She looked at the people milling about the Commons. She looked at the Apollo's Café sign, which was flickering a little bit. She looked anywhere but at him. A wry smile turned into a sour laugh. "You were right about everything. About Cerberus. About me. And a little part of me hates you for it."

Kaidan's expression softened. "Shepard. No. I was wrong about you. I put you on a pedestal and when you turned out to be just as human as the rest of us, I was the first to kick you into the dirt. And I'm still kicking you. I don't mean to. Maybe it's my ego getting in the way. I mean, you came back from the _dead_. I can't imagine what that must have been like. Surrounded by the enemy, trying to make sense of the world you were dropped back into. And Garrus stood by you."

"Yeah. He did."

"I'm glad," Kaidan nodded. "You needed someone you trusted at your back. And whatever happened between you, it wasn't cheating. Not if you thought we were over. It was a stupid thing to say."

"Yeah," Shepard agreed, a glimmer of warmth coming back into her eyes. "It was."

"Well, you don't have to be so quick to agree," Kaidan laughed. He reached across the table and put his hands over hers. "So…?"

Shepard wasn't enraged anymore, merely annoyed at Kaidan's persistence. Of course, it was that same persistence that had won her over the first time. Made sense that he'd think it would work this time, too, but everything was different now. Shepard remembered how she had felt when she saw Palaven burning. Terror had hit her like a shockwave, not of the Reapers, but of losing the most important person in her life. She remembered how her heart had jumped for joy on Menae when, instead of the dreadful news she had expected, she'd heard that beautiful voice. The voice that whispered her name like it was poetry, the voice that made her body tremble like tectonic shifts.

"_I'm on it, Shepard. We'll find you the Primarch."_

At that moment, everything clicked. A calculation had evolved into passion. She loved that magnificent turian bastard, and nothing was going to stand between them ever again. Not the Reapers, not the Alliance, and definitely not her idiot sweetheart of an ex-boyfriend. Shepard slid her hands out from beneath Kaidan's.

"So," she sighed. "That night before Ilos, you said that even the Reapers would come back around, but that you and I would never happen again. You were right about that, too. I died, Kaidan. You lived. I'll always care about you, but we can't go back to the way things were. We have to move forward."

"Right," Kaidan said. His voice hitched a bit, and now it was he who looked anywhere but at her. "Not the answer I was hoping for, but…" And then, there it was again, as he looked back up into Shepard's face, that deathless optimism that ensured she would permanently like the man, even when he was impossibly bullheaded. Which was pretty much all the time. "Friends, then?"

"Friends," Shepard smiled.

"Good. Now when does that steak get here? Incidentally, you're buying."

Of course she was.

III: Mess Hall

Shepard sat alone in the mess, sipping Chakwas's famous hangover remedy. Assuming the Reapers didn't eat the galaxy beforehand, when the time came for the good doctor to retire, she really ought to bottle this stuff and sell it. Didn't taste too bad, and Shepard could feel its effects almost immediately. Out of the main battery sauntered just the turian she wanted to see. He grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and took a seat across from her.

"Heard you had a rough shore leave," Garrus smirked. Well, in that way that turians smirked, with their mandibles.

"Now where'd you hear that?" Shepard said, playing innocent.

"Joker might've mentioned something about 'mystery drinks' and Aria's couch," he replied, raising a brow.

"It's a comfortable couch," Shepard deadpanned. "I very nearly stayed there."

"Jane Shepard: Pirate Princess of Purgatory," Garrus drawled. "Has a ring to it. At least you didn't start any fights this time."

"Almost did," Shepard acknowledged, "but I managed to quell the blood rage. Barely."

Garrus leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Hmmm," he rumbled. "Such restraint. Truly, your stoicism strikes my heart with awe."

Shepard leaned forward, mirroring the turian. "Eat me, Vakarian."

"Right here? We'll cause a scandal, Commander."

"So much for stoicism," Shepard grinned. Their foreheads touched, and Shepard closed her eyes, enjoying the contact. "Got you a present," she murmured.

"Oh?" Garrus's hand found Shepard's, and her thin fingers entwined with his.

"It's down in the armory. You should go open it; come find me when you're done."

"And where will you be?" He lifted her hand to his mouth and gently nibbled on her fingertips.

"Cabin. Installing a VI for my fish tank," Shepard replied. "And on that romantic note…"

Garrus released her hand and they both leaned back into upright positions. "…I'll go open my present," he finished.

IV: Cabin

As the elevator moved up to Shepard's quarters, Garrus clasped his hands behind his back. His visage appeared calm and collected, but his mind was racing. What better way for a commanding officer to show her gunnery chief that she cared than with the gift of a Systems Alliance Black Widow semi-automatic rifle? The gift of a Black Widow II with an extended barrel and enhanced scope. This top of the line rifle was exclusively available through Spectre Requisitions. The sniper could get three shots off before popping the heat sink, unlike the standard Widow which only allowed for one round per thermal clip. In addition, the barrel extension made up for the discrepancy in damage per round. Sweet spirits, she was a sexy weapon, and she was all his.

Garrus realized as the elevator doors opened that he wasn't sure if this thought referred to the new gun, or to his commanding officer.

"Garrus," Shepard greeted him warmly. She threw the datapad she was studying down on her bed. "Glad you're here."

"Trouble installing the VI?" Garrus was trying to keep his demeanor cool, but Shepard was wearing that colony kid outfit, the one that exposed a tantalizing strip of her supportive waist. Back in their Cerberus days, the crew liked to make fun of her fondness for it, but not Garrus. Shepard had claimed she wore it so often because there was no Cerberus logo embroidered on it, but that wasn't an issue anymore, was it?

"No trouble at all," she replied, leaning back against the aquarium. "My fish will never go hungry again."

Garrus took a small step towards her. "I, uh, appreciate your very thoughtful gift. It must have cost a fortune."

"Alliance funds," Shepard nodded. "Worth every credit. I'm not sure what to expect on Dekuuna. The ambassador wasn't especially forthcoming with intel. Not for my lack of trying, mind you."

"Of course," Garrus grinned. This woman would flirt with _anyone_.

"Not like that," Shepard rolled her eyes. "I don't think he actually had much intel to give. Anyway, in my mind I started picturing Reaperized Elcor…"

"Gah!" Garrus interjected. "That's horrifying!"

"Nightmare fuel for sure," Shepard agreed. "But then I thought, I'll have the best sniper in the galaxy on my six."

"Indeed you will."

"And if said best sniper in the galaxy comes equipped with the shiniest, newest semi-auto anti-tank rifle in the galaxy, we can't lose."

"Your logic is impeccable, Commander," said Garrus, feeling a rush of adrenaline as Shepard described the weapon.

Shepard stepped forward. "Also, you're my favorite."

"Obviously," Garrus said, moving towards her.

"I know you like to brag, but don't tell Vega. It'll break his sensitive heart."

"All right," Garrus grumbled. "Can I tell Alenko?"

Shepard laughed. "As long as I'm out of earshot."

"Deal," said Garrus. He uncurled a finger and brushed it along Shepard's jaw.

"Vakarian," Shepard said in a sing-song voice. "I believe I gave you an order down in the mess."

"So you did," Garrus purred.

Neither of them felt the need for self-restraint.


End file.
